


Variations on a Theme

by Sehrezad



Category: The Gifted (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Gen, Thunderblink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-02-12 05:50:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,639
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12952689
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sehrezad/pseuds/Sehrezad
Summary: This will be a collection of little drabbles clustered in fives and centered on a theme. ThunderBlink drabbles, of course.





	1. Mornings

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I don’t own anything.
> 
> I love writing short little pieces so here is my contribution to the wonderfulness of ThunderBlink. These drabbles are connected only by the theme, otherwise they are individual little snapshots. Enjoy and thanks for reading!

When John began to stir, Clarice let out a growl-like sound and all but through her weight on him, pinning him to the mattress. Then she settled comfortably on top of him, ready to go back to sleep.

"Clarice, what are you doing?" John's bemused voice rumbled in his chest under her ear.

"Keeping you in bed," she mumbled against his chest. "We're sleeping in."

"Are we now?" he chuckled, sneaking his arms around her waist.

"Damn right we are." Clarice tightened her hold on him just to stress her point. "If you want to keep sleeping with me, you've gotta start waking up with me. No sneaking out in an ungodly hour." Silence followed her statement. "And I decided you start now," she added as an afterthought.

"Yes, ma'am," John chuckled then placed a kiss into her hair before closing his eyes without further protest.

Clarice hummed in contentment.

* * *

The rising sun found John sitting on an old chair next to a small bed.

He was listening to the steady breathing of Clarice, constantly reminding himself that she was only sleeping.

After six excruciatingly long days, they had managed to rescue her from Sentinel Services. She was a mess when they found her. She was physically unhurt but John didn't dare to guess what they had done to her. She was terrified and exhausted beyond belief. When they found her in a small cell, she was fighting anybody who came near her, no matter whether they were friend or foe. Only John seemed to have managed to break through her defenses and, when recognition registered on her weary face, all he could do was to catch her before she sagged against him.

She was safe.

She'd been sleeping ever since, John keeping vigil next to her bed and keeping the nightmares at bay as best he could. She would wake up screaming, then she would cling to him while he was whispering soft reassurances into her ear.

She was not alone.

He was here to protect her.

Whatever happened to her, she would get through it.

And he would be there… every step of the way.

Everything was going to be all right.

He would be there… and God help those who want to hurt her again.

* * *

"Man, you really do eat everything," Marcos raised an eyebrow at the woman sitting opposite him at the table.

Clarice only nodded through a mouthful of baked beans.

"Not everything," John shook his head next to her, mild disgust on his face. "Anything."

"I can see that," Lorna grimaced over her breakfast. "No one should eat canned baked beans with so much enthusiasm. That's just wrong."

"Hey," Clarice protested, finishing the beans and reaching for a plate of dubiously looking pancake leftover. "It was good."

"It was five days old," John pointed out. "I opened it."

"I know. And you left it so I ate it. I really can't see why the fuss."

"Love you," John chuckled, pulling her to him and placing a kiss on her temple.

"Aren't those your pancakes from last week?" Marcos whispered to Lorna.

"Yep," she wrinkled her nose.

* * *

Clarice woke to a gentle press to her abdomen. She groaned at the disturbance and, blindly, her hand searched out the reason of her awakening.

"John?" she mumbled in a sleepy voice when her fingers came into contact with the man's hair.

"Shh…" he hushed her, not moving from his position.

"What are you doing?" Her voice was more alert this time around.

"I hear it," he stated excitedly. "The heartbeat of the baby." And this time he looked up at her. "I can hear the heartbeat of our baby."

She froze at the statement and when her brain finally caught up and suspicion became reality, her heart began to hammer in her chest.

She was sure John could hear that, too.

* * *

"John," Clarice groaned sleepily. "Stop fidgeting or get the hell out of bed."

"That's not me." His voice sounded wide-awake… and mildly amused.

Clarice's sleep-addled mind was still trying to process that information when she heard a soft giggle from under the covers. She smiled into her pillow.

"John," she called out again. "Something's climbing up my leg."

"Yeah," John acknowledged her statement without any alarm in his voice. "We have an intruder here."

"Oh, I hope it's not that snake from a couple of nights ago." Another little giggle. "It really scared me."

"Or that frog," John added playfully. Another little giggle.

Clarice opened her eyes and shared a humorous look with John.

"I bet it's that cute little squirrel that always comes here."

This time the giggle was accompanied by a squeaky noise and not long after that, a blob of black hair appeared from under the cover between Clarice and John.

"Aurora, what are you doing here, sweetheart?" Clarice asked as the little girl settled between them.

"Mommy and daddy didn't want to play with me. But mommy said you would."

"She did say that, didn't she?" John asked and Clarice silently groaned.

Aurora nodded vigorously with a huge grin.

"I guess it's time to wake up then," John agreed then hauled the girl out of the bed.

Behind the merry squeals of the girl, he could hear Clarice mumble, "God, I love that kid but I swear I'll tell Lorna and Marcos that they didn't make that kid so that we would play with her at five in the morning."


	2. Sleeping Arrangements

John was tired… that kind of tired which you can feel in your bones and the only thing you feel yourself capable of doing is to drag yourself to bed and sleep at last.

The only problem was that John's bed was full.

He looked on at the scene before him with quite desperation… and a suppressed yawn.

From her place on the bed on which she was comfortably sprawled out, Zingo raised her head at the noise and John gave the canine an accusing look. "You too?"

Zingo didn't seem to get the message as she promptly rolled on her back displaying her belly with open invitation. The movement only slightly disturbed the little boy who was lying spread-eagle on the bigger part of the bed, effectively covering John's usual spot and a good portion of Clarice's, as the evidence showed.

John shook his head with a small smile then quickly discarded his jeans and west, ignoring Zingo in the process.

When he was ready, he sent the dog down and carefully lifted up Jamie. With the seven-year-old pressed against his chest, he lay down and pulled the blanket over both of them. The boy didn't even stir, John observed amused, then glanced on his left and winced. In her sleep, Clarice was practically balancing on the edge of their bed arms holding onto the tiny form of Lily, who had snuggled up against her.

With his free arm, John reached out and gently nudged Clarice. Clarice only woke enough to shift closer to John and murmur something John couldn't really make out, then she settled right back to sleep.

With Jamie lying on him and Clarice and Lily tucked safely in his arms, John closed his eyes with a satisfied sigh. That was just what he needed.

Then Zingo jumped on his legs and curled up in the hollow between them…

* * *

"All right," John started as he walked up to Clarice, who – for all intents and purposes – looked like someone who was just lounging on the couch. John knew better. "Up you go," he told her, indicating that she should stand and follow him.

"Excuse me?" Clarice cocked an eyebrow questioningly over her book.

"You heard me," John shrugged, starting to turn. "Come on."

"No."

John sighed and turned back to her. "If you think that I'll let you sleep on this couch again, think again."

"I'm not sleeping on this couch."

"Really? You just happen to carry your pillow and blanket around." He indicated said items lying on the other side of the couch.

"I… I have nothing to say to that."

"Look, it's a really commendable gesture that you give up your bed for the refugees but you need a proper bed, too. I happen to have one."

"Yours," Clarice pointed out.

"Does it matter? It's big enough for the two of us."

"I don't think that's such a good idea."

"Come on," John ignored her. "I know your neck is killing you."

"All right," Clarice sighed resigned. "You sold it."

John smiled.

* * *

_(post season finale)_

Marcos was on his way out to relieve whoever was on watch. He couldn't sleep so he thought that he might as well do something to divert his attention from his heartache.

He half expected John to be outside, ever watchful and ready to protect the people under his care. So, when he spotted his friend lying close to the entrance, he stopped surprised. He didn't have to look too long, either, to realize that John wasn't alone on the narrow yoga mat. Clarice was securely tucked away in his arms.

The image of John shielding Clarice from the storming bullets popped into his mind and he shivered. He didn't think that he would forget that scene any time soon. He let a small smile creep on his face, though. It was just so John to shield Clarice even in his sleep, with them turned to the wall, John wrapped around Clarice, his broad back hiding her from the outside world. She was safe with him.

He was happy for them.

Even when everything seemed to be falling apart… when his life was in pieces, it was nice to see his friends finding comfort in each other.

He looked around before continuing his way outside and grabbed a spare blanket to lay it on the sleeping couple.

* * *

"Clarice," John looked up from his papers questioningly at his girlfriend when she walked into his tiny office. "What are you doing?"

"Oh, don't mind me," she told him offhandedly as she threw a yoga mat on the floor. "I just thought I'd sleep with my boyfriend for once… or at least in the same room," she shrugged tossing her pillow and blanket on the floor, too.

"I'm that bad, aren't I?"

"Yup," Clarice nodded as John reached out to pull her closer and rest his head on her stomach.

"'M sorry."

"Hey, I'm not reproaching you or anything," she cupped his cheeks to make him look up at her. "I just stated my desire to actually see you before I go to sleep. As I said," she kissed lightly before leaving his arms to make her 'bed', "Don't mind me."

"You can't sleep on the floor," John told her exasperatedly as Clarice lay down. "You're practically lying under my desk." It was really ridiculous, he thought.

"Watch me," Clarice said before turning in for the night.

John shook his head and turned back to work, intent to make some progress in his work. It wasn't long before he gave up, though.

He scooped his girlfriend up from the floor and walked back to their room.

* * *

Clarice stretched lazily as she turned around to snuggle up to John, ready to spend a couple of peaceful minutes in his arms before she'd face the day.

As soon as her hand reached the body lying next to her, though, she stopped.

"You're not John," she remarked with disappointment in her voice.

"No," came the sleepy reply. "But those are my boobs."

"Oh, sorry." Clarice withdrew her hands with a frown and lay on her back. "What are you doing here anyway?" she asked her unexpected bedfellow. " And, where is John?"

Lorna turned on her back, too, and let out a huge yawn.

"Last time I saw him, he was a smartass about putting down babies in their own bed for the night. I wonder how he managed."

"You left him with the baby?"

"Course I did," Lorna shrugged. "He and Marcos wouldn't shut up about Aurora needing to sleep on her own. I told them to make it happen then."

There was a long silence after that, which Clarice broke at once.

"I have to see that." she stumbled out of bed and rushed out of the room. Lorna followed her at a more measured pace.

"Her own bed, my ass," she scoffed with an amused smile when she laid eyes upon the two men who were sleeping in her and Marcos' bed, lying on their sides and facing each other… with baby Aurora sleeping between them.

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


	3. Kids

"She won't bite, you know that? Right?" John asked with laughter in his voice, looking at Clarice bemused.

"You don't know that," Clarice protested, arms stretched out in front of her, holding the object of her fear at arm's length.

"Actually, I do." Another laugh. "She doesn't have any teeth yet."

"I know that." Now she sounded indignant. "But she definitely has a dangerous expression on her."

"I don't know… She looks more amused than anything else."

Clarice was not amused if her narrowed eyes were anything to go by.

"Sorry," John winced. "She is more like… fascinated. You know, Lorna has this expression before she goes crazy magnet girl."

"Dangerous. That is the good word. Here," she pressed the little girl into John's hands. "You hold the baby."

* * *

Clarice watched with amusement as tiny eyes narrowed with thoughtful contemplation.

"He is… normal," came the verdict from her five-year-old daughter and she couldn't help the chuckle that bubbled up from her. Yes, the newborn baby peacefully slumbering in her arms definitely was what would everybody call normal. Ten fingers and ten toes (she counted them) with a perfect blob of dark hair and tiny perfect ears which curved at the top. He had also inherited his father's darker skin-tone and, she was sure, his nose.

He was perfect.

She smiled, turning her eyes on her daughter who was sitting on John's lap excitedly scrutinizing her new baby brother. She was beautiful and her heart skipped a beat just by looking at her. She reached out and tucked an errand purple lock behind and incredibly cute pointy ear and wondered how strange the human mind worked.

She remembered vividly the paralyzing fear which took hold of her while she carried that tiny human being. She was terrified that she would in any way look like her… that, because of her, her baby would bear the mark of being a mutant. But as soon as her daughter was placed into her arms and she took in her tiny wrinkled body which was a beautiful shade of magenta and her deep purple hair and pointy ears, Clarice was sure that she'd never seen anything more perfect.

"Look," John pressed his cheek against her daughter's hair and two identical pair of brown eyes watched as the baby slowly opened his eyes.

Clarice smiled proudly: they were a vibrant shade of green.

* * *

When John was asked to join the Underground, he had no way to know that accepting the offer would mean so much more to him than the chance to fight for something he believed in.

It meant accepting the responsibility of taking care of his people… of leading them.

It meant helping those who could not defend themselves.

It meant helping families reunite… finding a new home.

It meant him finding a new home…

It meant him ending up where he was at the moment: lying next to his wife with a five years old girl tucked away safely between them and a nine years old boy silently snoring on him.

He had found Clarice just when everything was to turn on its head and could never be grateful enough for her steadfast present by his side.

They had found Jamie and Lily not long after that. Everything had fallen apart by that time. They were still struggling to rebuild the Underground while trying to help the mutants who'd been driven away from their homes. That was how they found a little boy covering in an abandoned warehouse. They were originally looking for six children whom even John found difficult to track down. It was easy enough to narrow down their hiding place to the warehouse but to find them in there… It was a completely another question. They were moving the same way, sounding the same way… even breathing the same way. He could not even determine their exact number.

It was almost as frustrating as trying to track down Clarice.

Finally, John managed to coax the children out of their hiding places and he was dumbstruck to find out that they were one and the same child… all fourteen of them. Jamie had the ability to multiply himself.

He was so terrified that, for days, he was only willing to communicate with John. Somehow, over time, Jamie became their little boy. It was four years ago.

Lily was the daughter of a refugee couple in Baltimore and was found under the debris of the demolished safehouse Sentinel Services had torn to the ground with most of the people still inside. By the time John and the others arrived there, there were no survivors to rescue from under the wreckage save for a toddler who had not a scratch on her. When Clarice took the crying baby into her arms, John instantly knew that she would not give her up.

So, they had two beautiful children and their life found a new rhythm...

His life found a new goal.

* * *

Clarice was pulled into wakefulness by children giggling in the kitchen. It made her lips curl into a small sleepy smile as she stretched her muscles. It was good to hear the scared little boy they'd found a couple of days ago opening up.

"What's happening here?" she didn't lose the smile as she walked into the kitchen where she found John and five little boys merrily shoveling Froot Loops into their mouths. The scene felt so normal that she couldn't help the small flutter of her stomach. John looked amused, the shadows haunting his eyes in the last months seemed to have lifted for the moment and the uncontrolled enthusiasm of the boys warmed her heart.

Of course, there was nothing normal in the scene. There was still the responsibility of the Underground lying heavily on John's shoulders and, of course, there was only one boy under their care. Jamie. He was something else, though.

Five pairs of identical eyes turned on her over their bowls but they only spared her a fleeting glance before turning back to their task at hand: devouring their breakfast with such vigor which made Clarice gave John a bemused look.

John just shrugged then pulled her into his side.

"Jamie got so excited when he saw the cereal box that he split into five," he explained as Clarice's arm snaked over his shoulder.

"I see," she nodded, pressing a kiss into his hair and being just slightly worried about the prospect of feeding an excitable five-year-old.

* * *

"John," Clarice called his name with an uncertain low voice that immediately got his attention. She was standing in the doorway to their bedroom, her expression matching her tone.

"Hey," he abandoned his work at once. "What is it?"

He watched with concern as she slowly walked up to the desk and sat down opposite of him. She took a deep breath and reached for his hand that lay atop a pile of paper, enveloping it into her small ones. "I heard you talk with Marcos earlier… about having children?" She avoided his eyes, he noticed.

"Clarice…" he tried to interrupt her but she squeezed his hand and lifted her gaze to look him dead in the eyes.

"I didn't hear all of it. But I could gather the subject. And I think its time we talked about it, too. You know to clarify the expectations and face realities." All John could do was to nod. Clearly, Clarice had something on her mind and he didn't dare to interrupt her.

"You remember when I told you about that bastard who used to beat the crap out of me and my sister?" Another nod on his part. He felt like something heavy settled in the pit of his stomach. She cleared her throat before continuing. "That son of a bitch… let's just say that he didn't stop with beating us… me, specifically." John took in a sharp breath and Clarice let out a rueful chuckle. "I guess he got off on me being… different. Anyway," she shook herself, not giving the opportunity to John to react in any way, "what I wanted to say is that I can't have children. I had a nasty miscarriage and..."

"Clarice..." His voice was raw when he finally spoke up.

"It's all right," she gave him a small sad smile. "Really." She accompanied it with a small shrug that told him that it wasn't all right after all. How it could be? His own heart ached with her loss. "I'm not sure I would willingly want to bring a child into this world anyway."

"That was exactly what I told Marcos," he admitted and the relief behind her surprise told him that she really only heard what he was talking about with Marcos and not what had exactly been said. "Still, you deserve it to be your own decision."

"Either way, it really sucks, right?" she asked, eyes shining with coming tears. Acceptance? Regret? She understood his pain as well.

"It does," John agreed, gently nudging her to stand up and pulled her in front of him. "But I love you, Clarice." He looked up at her. "That's all what matters."

Clarice nodded, then, stepping between his legs, she pulled him against her chest. "I love you, too."

* * *

_Thanks for reading!_


End file.
